Fear Does Not Define Us
by RowenaMatthewJones
Summary: Canada and America go to Hogwarts as third years During this year, they must face many challenges, Dementors, Boggarts, over-vigilant cats, and a growing threat from within themselves. Warnings: Probably some blood and angst and fluff. (I suck at romance, so probably no ships)
1. Commencer

**Hello everyone, I started this a while back, and I'm not 100% sure I will keep in consistently updated. However, I figured I would put it up anyway. Warnings: nothing really yet**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

 **Please Review, it helps.**

It was three in the morning when Arthur was rudely awoken by an owl tapping incessantly at his window. He shot up in bed and grumbling all the way, went to open the window. The owl was pitch black with silver and white speckles and blue eyes, Dumbledore's. He opened the rolled parchment and saw this.

Dear Arthur,

I am writing to you with a grave reason. As you know Harry Potter had been with us for two years at Hogwarts and he is returning for his third this September. The boy is constantly in mortal danger and I cannot guarantee his safety anymore, especially with the recent escape of Sirius Black. Therefore, I would like you to come and teach History of Magic at Hogwarts this year. Also, please bring a select team of two countries you trust implicitly. However, please for the sake of all our sanities, do not choose Francis. Thier status as countries will not be revealed and they will be entering the third year with Harry Potter. I know you will not let me down. Please write me which two you select so I may send them their letters.

Regards,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Arthur sat there, angry that Albus assumed he would agree as well as already planning who he would choose. He knew he was going to accept, but as he went through who to bring he found himself shrinking in on two in particular. No Francis, NO Spain, No annoying Prussia or Italy, the list went on until he stopped at America and Canada. They both had magical communities even if Alfred denied his, and he trusted them both implicitly even if he denied it. He picked up the phone and dialed Matthew.

Matthew was watching tv when Arthur called him. He wasn't surprised. Arthur often called him when he didn't feel like dealing with America. He picked up the phone.

"Hello Matthew", came the crisp British voice.

"England", Canada replied, "what do you need?"

" I need you to fetch your brother and come over here within the day. Is that possible?"

Canada could sense the urgency and the irritation in Arthur's voice so he immediately replied that they would be there within the day.

Fortunately, Matthew was visiting Alfred's New York apartment, so he quickly scheduled his plane on his top priority channel and went to fetch Al.

Al was not in a good mood. Matt had woken him up at six o'clock in the morning, threw a suitcase at him, shoved some pancakes down his throat, and announced that they were going on an impromptu trip to England. Basically, this translated to, Al was being forced to go to the most irritating person on the planet's house and he had not had one sip of coffee in over six hours. America alternated between total insomnia for weeks at a time where he would live off coffee and sugar; and sleeping for two days straight. He had just come off a particularly difficult three-week insomnia chapter and was asleep for about an hour when he had to get up. He was not very happy.

Matthew was worried. He had noticed that Alfred had taken the window seat on the plane. He never did that, he always liked to talk to the flight attendants or the people sitting next to him. An hour into the plane ride, he still hadn't said a word and was staring listlessly out the window. Matthew slept with a thousand things on his mind. When he awoke, America was still staring out the window. Matt shook him out of his daze and they left the plane. It was 9:30 P.M. in London with the time change and the eight and a half hour flight. Arthur picked them up and it was a silent car ride to the house. They entered the old victorian mansion on the edge of town and followed England into the basement as he swept down the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, England said: "now I know that you both deny having magic or magical communities and you both think that I am crazy, but I need you to open your minds just once so that I can show you the truth."

He was met with silence until America surprisingly nodded. Arthur looked a bit like a fish out of water, like he was not expecting them to agree so quickly. Despite it, he pulled out a wand (not his usual stupid star one, but a regular one) and cast a spell. He levitated a cat, and then looked at the twins expectantly. All of a sudden, Alfred let out a moan of pain, he had fallen to his knees clutching his head.

"Alfred?!" Both Arthur and Matthew bent down next to him to help him. Then, like a switch flipping on, America was back.

"Nothing to worry about! Just a little headache, nothing the HERO can't handle. Wait a second! Did Iggy just make a cat float! OMG OMG that is crazy! It's a stunt right, they do it with mirrors." In a second, the ignorant and arrogant personality that had been missing all morning was back.

Arthur sighed, he thought it had been too good to be true, but the back of his mind was still tinged with worry for his former colony. Oh well, it was just one more person he had to try not to strangle. "Alright you two, basically magic is real." Alfred opened his mouth to argue, but Arthur cut him off " I don't want to hear it, the evidence is right here before your own eyes. When you were a colony, you loved magic, you have your own magical community. Don't give me that look, your boss knows and you know it's real, you can feel all of your people. So I need you to get a grip and forget whatever is making you blatantly deny this part of yourself!"

Arthur took a deep breath while Matthew clapped slowly. "I've been trying to say that for ages," he said. Arthur took a look at America, for a moment he thought he saw the wistful and quiet America that had been there before, but he was gone in a blink of an eye replaced by the happy go lucky one.

"Fine fine I admit it, it looks pretty legit." remarked Alfred.

"Thank God," said Arthur. "Alright then, I'll give it to you all at once. Basically, I need you both to accompany me to my wizard school Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . There I will be taking up the post of History of Magic professor and you two will join the ranks of the students learning the highly useful skills of magic as well as protecting Harry Potter the only hope to save our world. Clear?"

"Alright," said Matthew "sounds fun. Al?"

"I think I might skip out on this little adventure okay?" said Alfred with a nervous chuckle.

Arthur shook his head emphatically, "absolutely not young man, you are accompanying your brother and I and you will learn magic and do as you are told!"

"You can't order me around like that anymore! I'm independent, Alfred FREEDOM Jones! I beat you, you have no right to do this." yelled Alfred.

"Fortunately I do have that right," said Arthur with a cruel smile. "Your boss stands behind me on this one, he thinks it would be better if you interacted with all parts of your country, and I agree. Why are you so against learning magic anyway? I would think you would love it, it's like being inside of your anime tv shows."

"I...I... fine, I'll go!" stuttered out America. For a moment, just a moment, Arthur almost felt guilty for what he said and when he saw the look of terror and uncertainty on his former colony's face, that emotion was furthered, but he pushed it down and set about giving the twins their shrinking potions.

"So?" questioned Matthew, "when does term start?"

"In two days", replied Arthur, with a wry grin, "let's go".

It was the next day, they were halfway through their shopping and Alfred had been all eyes the whole day, strangely quiet, the loud and perpetually oblivious America had only surfaced on a few occasions. The highlight of their trip had so far been the pet shop where Matthew had picked out a snowy owl who he named Adrien, and Alfred had picked out a small gray kitten whom he had named Delia. The two were now on their way to the last spot on their list, the wand maker. The stepped into Ollivanders and were plunged into a sort of organized chaos of wand boxes stacked haphazardly everywhere. Suddenly, a thin, white-haired man with huge gray eyes came out of the backroom, " One moment please, " he yelled.

A few minutes later, he emerged looking distinctly ruffled. "Oh," he remarked, "so you three are the new transfer teacher and students? I'm assuming that it is only the young ones that need new wands?" Arthur nodded. "Good good, well then, let's begin. "

The old man selected a box from atop one of the precarious towers. "Maple wood, 7 1/2 inches, springy," he said as he handed the wand to Matthew. The wand shattered like glass in his hands. "Perhaps not then, I thought for sure you would be maple, but no matter, Onward." The bespectacled old man brought wand after wand for him, but nothing seemed to fit. Finally, he seemed to have a moment of realization. He walked into the back room and emerged with a delicate ivory box. "This is one of the prides of my collection, it was not actually made by myself, it was made by one of the Inuit magicians in northern Canada. It is Pine, 12 inches exactly, with an unusual center of scales from one of the legendary ice dragons in the North. Try it out." Ollivander handed it to Matthew. He waved it and immediately a burst of flame came out of the wand. "Yes, yes that will do nicely. " Matthew looked appreciatively at his wand and even Arthur looked impressed.

"Alright," said Ollivander briskly "on to the next one." He proceeded to bring out another twenty wands all of which exploded, shattered, or otherwise disintegrated. Finally, he went into the back room and brought out a leather bag. "Once again, very unusual," muttered the old man. "Now this wand was also not made by me, one of the last native American high priestesses gave it to my great great grandfather when he was a little boy. It has never been held by another. It is redwood, 10 1/2 inches, and one of the rarest cores ever, thunderbird feather. Give it a wave. "

Alfred gave it a wave and immediately, a violent gust of wind blew through the shop. "Yes, Yes that is perfect. Unfortunately, they are a little expensive, 20 galleons each."

"Oh is that all?" remarked Arthur, "with the way you were talking I thought they would be worth a hundred each." He pulled out 40 galleons and gave him a tip of 20 more and they walked out the door.

"Well boys, I'm very proud of both of you," Arthur said, "those are some fine wands you have there. Now as term starts tomorrow I think that it would be prudent if you both spent the night with me."

"Fine," muttered America, "but just because we look younger doesn't give you license to treat us like colonies again."He took off in the direction of the street, Matthew following, shaking his head.

"Come on Arthur! Let's go!" Matthew shouted back at the blonde but was surprised to see he was engaged in a conversation with a man with long platinum blonde hair. He turned back around to catch his brother, but America had already wandered over to the Quidditch store. "Oh well," he thought, "he'll be there for a while." Matthew headed back to Arthur to see him growing slowly more and more irritated with the man, he knew it would take him a while to get things sorted out, so he began to wander over to one of the stands with necklaces on it.

"Hello dearie," cackled the old lady manning the stall, "can I interest you in any of my pretty baubles? They're for protection, among other things.

"No I'm..." he drifted off as his eyes met with a red ring. It was a simple silver band, but on it was a red stone, it reminded him of a flame. Its dancing oranges, reds, and yellows all came together in a requiem for whoever was nearest. "How much for that one?"

"Now that one is special, but I can tell you are her owner, I gift it to you for free, though I must warn you that it is a strength-giving charm, and for something to be given, something of equal value must be taken." The old lady looked at him with an appraising eye as he stared entranced at the necklace. "So, do you want it?"

"Yes! Yes," Matthew shouted. He snatched the jewel and thrust it on his finger. Then, the spell was broken, "Thank you, madam," he

said politely. He walked off to join the now alone Arthur, never noticing the ring as it faded into almost nothing.


	2. Dementor

**Hi everyone, I feel really bad that I haven't updated in literally months, but for some reason I thought I had like 3 chapters on here already but whatever. Here chapter 2 is, I tried to make it long to compensate. Please read and review and feel free to PM me and please let me know any comments questions or concerns you have.**

 **Disclaimer :I do not own Hetalia, nor will I ever.**

Alfred was thoroughly lost, he had been staring at the brooms for a few minutes when he had decided to go explore a little more. However, after a few wrong turns he had ended up in a suspicious looking alleyway filled with shady characters and shops titled things like "The Poison Brew" and "The Dance of Death." All in all, he felt rather out of his element. Suddenly, someone grabbed his hand. The hand dragged him over to a little stall on the side of the road. The person who had grabbed him was a woman. She had bright green eyes and short Auburn hair, a beauty.

"Hello there darling, you looked lost so I couldn't help but bring you over here to join me. Where are you trying to go?"

"Umm... hello," Alfred replied uncertainly "I was trying to get back to Diagon Alley."

"Oh yes of course dear, its at the end of this street, turn left and then right." Alfred turned to leave but she stopped him. "Before you leave could I interest you in some of my wares? I have some of the finest charms in England."

" I...I...I'm okay, thank you very much ma'am," stuttered out Alfred.

"No no I insist." The woman opened an old briefcase at her feet and pulled out a few necklaces. "Would you like one for strength?" she asked. "Or stress relief, or happiness, or gnome protection. No... theses ones aren't for you." She dug about in her suitcase, completely ignoring the uncomfortable Alfred. She pulled out a necklace, a black stone on a bronze chain. "This one is for you, it will make you turn invisible for one hour if you tap it three times. In fact, I can tell that it is yours, I will give it to you for free."

"Well...if its free, I suppose I could take it, thank you very much ma'am." He reached out and grabbed the necklace, and slung it around his neck. Then he looked at the woman, she was gone. He followed the directions the woman gave him to a very angry Arthur and Matthew, and they set off to England's house. Both boys, unconsciously deciding not to tell anyone of their gifts.

They were late. America had taken ages to get up out of bed, and Arthur had nearly burnt the house down twice before Matthew kicked him out of the kitchen. How does one burn cereal anyway? After a delicious meal of pancakes, they dropped Kumajiro off at Prussia's house (via Tony) and headed to train station. They must have looked quite a sight, America, using his super strength threw all of their luggage in the baggage train, and all three of them threw themselves on the train. Arthur went to check in with some of the teachers aboard, and Alfred and Matthew were left to find a place to sit. They wandered around for a bit until they found a semi empty room.

Matthew tentatively knocked, a bushy haired brunette smiled and nodded, inviting them to come in. Inside the compartment were four people. There was a tall boy, about 13 or 14 with bright red hair and a long thin nose, and another boy with extremely messy black hair, round glasses, and what seemed to be a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. Sitting next to the black haired boy was the girl who had let them come in, she had very bushy brown hair and rather large teeth, however she still was quite pretty. In the back asleep was a man wrapped in a semi-ragged cloak sleeping near the window. Matthew noticed the man's briefcase above him with writing on it that said R. J. Lupin. However, the best thing about the whole place was the pile of candy on the floor. Suddenly, the girl snapped him out of his daze, "Hello there, I'm Hermione Granger, the red haired one is Ron Weasley, and glasses is Harry Potter, and you are?"

She spoke with an air of intelligence and curiosity, and although her question was innocent enough, he couldn't help but remember Arthur's final warning to never tell anyone their real identities. He would have to be careful.

By now, America had miraculously fallen asleep next to the red haired boy. It was no wonder since he had barely slept for the past month, but he couldn't help but hate his brother for making him do all the explaining on his own. America may have been anything but subtle, but he was a genius at lying.

"My name is Matthew Williams, I'm from Canada, and this is my twin brother Alfred, from America." He answered.

"Wait," questioned Ron, "how come you two live in different countries if you are twins, I have twin brothers and we can barely get them to go a town away from each other. "

Here we go thought Matthew, "well basically when we were younger both of our parents died and we didn't have any family left, so these two brothers adopted us separately, Francis took me and raised me partially in France and partially in Canada, and Arthur took Alfred and raised him in both England and the U.S. Eventually by about fourth grade, Francis and Arthur moved in together and we got to live together near the border of Canada and the U.S. But because we were both raised for a lot of our early lives in separate countries we both consider ourselves from those countries."

He took a deep breath and prayed the hastily concocted story would be believed. To his everlasting relief, all of them nodded and acted like they understood.

After a few more random conversations revolving around which house the twins would get into, what pets did they get, and showing off their wands, the trio started a sort of private conversation of their own and Matthew attempted to get some sleep. For some reason, even though he always fell asleep right away he could not seem to drift off, and it took at least an hour of shifting around to finally doze off.

Hermione's P.O.V.

The twins were weird, that was for sure, she could tell that the shy twin's story, though partially true was at least somewhat made up on the spot. However, she also knew it wasn't her business to poke her nose around, even if she was curious. After a few hours of conversation and secretly admiring the adorable twins that had fallen asleep on each other, the train came to a screeching halt.

Matthew woke up with a start, but had to shake his twin to get him up. They both looked worried.

All of a sudden, the temperature dropped, frost climbed on the windows and our breath froze in the air. It was absolutely frigid. The air was tense and thick with dread and fear, and we were all on edge. It was as if something was just beyond the door waiting to scare us. The shadows moved, the door opened, and the lights went out. Then someone was on me, I heard voices, Ginny and Neville and Fred and George had stumbled in on us. The door opened, we saw a skeletal hand grasp the door and a shadowed, cloaked figure glided in. Matthew and Alfred collapsed, they were out like a light at the first sign of the hand. Suddenly, I began to remember when my parents had nearly died in the elevator accident, when my cat died on Christmas, when the bullies at school had pushed me into the dumpster. All my worst memories came rushing back, and I barely registered Harry collapsing beside me. It was dark and cold and hopeless, but then I saw a light.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The professor who had been sleeping had woken up and suddenly all the bad things began to fade away. I looked up and saw Ron, his face drawn and pale, Fred and George clinging to each other, and Ginny and Neville both looking very ill. Harry was beginning to stir from his place on the floor, but Alfred and Matthew had not moved from their positions, both of their faces were screwed up in agony and they were crying silent tears. The professor was leaning over them with a highly concerned look.

Suddenly, the door flung open. A man with messy blonde hair and wild green eyes dashed in. His clothes were rumpled and he panted as if he had run from the other side of the train. "Are...(pant) they...(pant)...okay? He asked directing the question to everyone. The professor gave a quick shake of the head.

"The need to be woken up immediately or they could suffer permanent damage. "

The wild eyed man shooed everyone away, he knelt down next to the twins and closed his eyes, placing one hand on each of their foreheads.

"What is he doing?" asked Ginny in a hushed tone.

"I believe...he is forming an empathy link with them, it will allow him to view their minds and help distribute the fears and memories. I am astonished that one so young could be capable of such advanced magic, but it should work." Replied Lupin.

We all waited with baited breath watching the young man sit there. As the minutes lengthened, he seemed to droop with exhaustion, suddenly he let out a great cry and I saw several tears run down his cheeks. His despondency only seemed to increase as time went on. Finally, he gave a great sigh, Lupin was there ready to catch him as he collapsed in exhaustion. Then, the twin's eyes fluttered open. Matthew was the first to awaken. He seemed dazed, and looked like he was ready to cry, but he saw his brother collapsed on the ground and immediately ran to his aid. Finally, Alfred woke up. He kept mumbling something about not being able to stop something. They both seemed extremely worried about the blonde young man but Lupin assured them that he would be just fine in a little while. And so it was that the countries came to Hogwarts.

Matthew's POV:

 _There was blood falling from the sky, blood and fire were raining down, permeating the earth. There was a burning city and a man. The man was young, with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, his boots were immaculate, and his coat even more so. Other than being surprisingly clean for the middle of a battle, there was nothing strange about the man. But then I saw his face. It was cold and hard, his mouth was set in a maniacal grin and his eyes, his eyes were violet, wild and dangerous, burning with unchecked rage. He radiated fury as his cruel face surveyed the devastation before him._

 _A city was burning, its white had long descended into oranges, reds, and blacks. The man sat there watching, waiting. Suddenly, another man approached, he looked completely similar to the other man but for his eyes, blue as the sky and the sea. They were twins, connected completely. However this time they were not on the same side, this time the unchecked passion would rage and burn against his other half. The blue eyed man merely stood there with eyes filled with sorrow and pain; and though he tried to be strong, he could not help but clutch his chest as his heart burned and fell. He would lose his heart today in more ways than one._

 _"Click", a safety was pulled. Amongst the fire and ruin, two brothers faced each other. The sky cried blood, but the fire never wavered. "Bang!" Perhaps there was a moment's hesitation in the cold man's eyes, but it soon left, and he pulled the trigger. His brother, illuminated in dusky orange glow, fell amongst the ruins of his heart. The aim was true, a hole, right through the heart, right where, seconds before, a hand had grasped in pain. The cold man stared at the fire, and perhaps, his ice cold heart began to melt, for as he walked away, a single tear fell unnoticed. Maybe little by little, one tear by one tear, the blood could leave the earth._

Matthew awoke with a roar in his ears. He had re-lived the worst experience of his life. He had killed his brother, again. His previous memories had not reminded him of how cold he had been back then . He felt like crying, but then he saw Alfred, his brother was curled up shaking and mumbling to himself. "Let me out!" he cried. He crouched next to Alfred and shook him awake. It took awhile, but he knew how to wake up his twin. Soon, Al's eyes shot open, he sat up like a bullet, losing his glasses and startling everyone in the room. He was a little out of sorts, and as he fumbled around for his glasses Matthew couldn't help but be worried. Then, they saw Arthur. Matt was worried, but Al was terrified. Alfred would never admit how much he cared about Arthur, a product of the revolution, but Arthur was still very much a father figure to him.

Suddenly, the train came to a grinding halt. "Land ho!" came the creaky voice of the conductor. Alfred shrank back in an uncharacteristic moment of terror, but at that moment Arthur shot up. Though quite a bit out of sorts not to mention emotionally unstable, England was accustomed to dealing with pain and bottling it up. Almost immediately, he got up dusted himself off and began coaxing the twins outside. Matthew was confused and still rather shaken from his vision. But he was mostly worried about Alfred. Ever since the magic had entered into their lives, he had been acting strange. He wasn't boisterous nor did he pretend to be stupid. He just was quiet, skittish, and shy. It was absolutely the opposite of America normally. He was going to have to bring it up to England next time he was alone.

Suddenly he was broken out of his thoughts. Arthur, who had passed out from exhaustion a few minutes before was now up and about. He looked...fine, to someone who didn't know him well. But underneath the bravado, Matthew could see the utter emotional exhaustion and shock." However, Arthur was still brisk and uniform in his speech, " You two are going to go with the first years in the boats so you can be sorted, I will meet you inside, don't worry, I am absolutely fine. I'll eat some chocolate and be good as new."

The twins were hustled outside, too shocked to argue, but as Matthew sailed off, he couldn't help but wonder if this was just the beginning in a whole new series of disasters.


	3. Sorting

**Hi Everyone, I have not updated in far far far too long I am very sorry. But basically, life happened. I doubt I need to explain it to you all. I had fun writing this chapter, even if it was a bit of a filler. I am working on a more action/information chapter. So please stay tuned. Thanks for all of the follows and favorites I got. Please do review, they are what keep me writing. Thanks again everyone.**

The great hall was huge, candles floated above the tables, the ceiling looked like the sky, and the plates and cups were made of gold. It was like something out of a fairy tail. Matthew looked at the ceiling and looked at his brother with a smile. Alfred had always loved the sky. When they had been little countries before the English and the French had come when they had been Maska and Kanata, they had played under the stars with their mother. Matthew had always had ice in his eyes and fire in his soul, but Alfred's soul had been made of starlight, and his eyes were stars themselves. It had been the hardest thing in the world for Alfred, to live in a house with a ceiling. He had missed the stars, and somehow, Matthew knew that there would be a lot of nights spent here.

At the front of the hall, a tall strict looking woman placed a hat upon a stool. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly had not been a song! The hat had indeed opened its mouth and began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

-J. K. Rowling

(I know that this is from the first book, but I was too lazy to make one up.)

Matthew was very confused, as was Alfred, what the hell was this? Then the woman began calling names.

"Adda Henry"

The timid eleven year old climbed the stairs and sat on the bench. The strict woman placed the hat on his head and after a moment, the hat yelled "Ravenclaw!" The blue and bronze table erupted into cheers and the boy walked over with a relieved smile.

"Beltran Jenny"

"Slytherin"

"Bento Marcus"

"Hufflepuff"

"Collins Rip"

"Gryffindor"

The list went on and on, and finally, she got to the end with Zika Mary who went to Hufflepuff. Matthew began to wonder if they would ever be called, it was kind of awkward standing in the middle of the room alone. Finally, the woman began to speak. "Welcome students, new and returning, this year we are going to have two transfers this year. They will be joining the third year class. Alfred F. Jones from the United States and Matthew Williams from Canada. As they previously went to a different magic school, they need to be sorted. I trust you will be welcoming and kind in your treatment towards them. And now let's start with Jones Alfred please."

Matthew watched as Alfred confidently walked up the stairs and sat on the stool, he flashed him a thumbs up and then screwed his eyes shut. It took forever, nearly five minutes went by. All of a sudden, the hat shouted, "Slyth!..." and then was silent. The whole room was quiet, this was the longest anyone had taken in a long while. Again the hat shouted, "Raven!..." and again it was silent. You could have dropped a pin in the room and heard it from down the hall. The entire room had looks of anticipation on their faces, but Matthew was just worried. He was worried what was taking so long and he was worried what awaited him. He glanced at England who looked tense and slightly shocked, who knew that America would get into the intelligent house and the cunning house. Finally, the silence was broken, "Gryffindor!" shouted the hat in a loud clear voice. Alfred got up looking slightly on edge and even exhausted, but the moment soon passed and he skipped over to the red and gold table already cheering for him. Matthew might have been able to forgive him for his strange behavior but for the significant look that swept over Alfred's face as he passed him.

"And now we will finish off with Williams, Matthew," declared the tall woman.

Matthew mounted the few steps leading up to the stool and the hat. He looked at it with apprehension, sat down, and placed it carefully atop his head. Suddenly, a screaming filled his ears, a deathly shriek of pain. He looked out with concern on the students, but none of them seemed to hear the noise, they were chatting away, not even noticing him. Wait... could they even see him? Panic began to set in but then, finally, the screaming ceased.

A voice filled his head, "I see you are like your brother, I apologize for that unsightly noise I was not quite prepared for you or your brother. Now that I have sorted away the millions inside your head I can see that you are Canada just as your Brother is America. Don't worry, I keep my secrets, I have sorted a few of your kind before, just not in a very long while. Now let's see then, I see intelligence, you are very wise, but a life of observation will do that to you. I see loyalty and dedication down to the very last drop of blood. But here, there is also some hidden ambition. You wish to be as strong as your brother I see. A worthy goal in all respects, but I must warn you that with strength comes responsibility, the strong often carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and you never know. There is more to your brother than you think. Now let's see, the last layer. Oh! I can see it clearly now, you are courageous. Kind in the face of danger, but tough enough to fight back. You are as brave as your brother! Perhaps even more so. I will send you to your brother. I sense this is a wise choice, but also one of great risk. You must learn to overcome your demons and help your brother with his. Goodbye Canada, I leave you in the hands of Godric Gryffindor,

Gryffindor!"

Matthew stepped off the stool, mind abuzz with all the information, he slowly made his way over to the red and gold table. Suddenly, he felt weak, like he was about to collapse, almost out of instinct, he gripped the ring on his left hand. His vision cleared, and his balance improved, it felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He was nearly giddy as he walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat next to his brother. And while his brother may have been clutching his head in pain and exhaustion, Matthew was seen, laughed with, and noticed. What a good day it had been.


	4. Dreams

**Hello everyone! I happy to update twice in one week. I have a ton to post. I feel like this chapter might be a tad dramatic, but oh well. As always if you have any questions/concerns/suggestions, please feel free to PM me. Also, please leave a review. I only got one one my last chapter, it is a little discouraging. On a happier note, please enjoy!**

 _It was winter, a cold, snowy, New England winter. The wind cut through the rags of the young boy running along the edge of the beach. He was about 8, small for his age with wheat blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The snow was piled in dunes, but the boy's feet were bare, there was a trail of blood in the snow behind him where the ice had cut into his feet. He was in pain, his expression was tragic, messy tears and an anguished look in his eyes. Something was chasing him, a looming shadow followed him, just out of sight. The sound of pounding feet was just at his heels. He sent a terrified look behind him as if expecting something terrible to be right behind him. But nothing was there. Still, he ran, dashing to the looming pine woods on the top of the cliff. He strained, his little feet pounding on the slick, sharp ground. He was almost there, almost to safety. He rounded the last bend, shivering with cold. His foot caught a rock, he tripped and tumbled landing at the feet of a tall man and a large crowd. The crowd was both men and women dressed in black and warmly in furs. They carried pitchforks and lanterns, and screamed "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"_

 _The boy shrunk away from them, almost trying to disappear, but that was not his gift. The tall man strode over to him, his brow furrowed and his expression dark and angry. He looked at the crying and terrified boy without mercy and struck him over the head with his rifle. The little form crumpled under the blow, and the crowd carried him back with the cries of "Witch! Witch! We have captured the witch!" ringing in the air._

 _The boy awoke in the freezing sleet, tied to a pole, wood was stacked around the bottom. "No! No! This cannot be happening! Big Brother where are you? Why are you never here anymore?! Big Brother England you have to save me!" cried the terrified little boy. The crowd surrounding the pole was silent for a moment... perhaps? but no...they had to save their village. The tall man took one step closer."No please please! You can't do this, please! Arthur! Francis! Mattie! Mama! save me." Another step and another, the shouts of the little boy had turned to tears, they fell onto the earth and wherever they fell a green light glowed._

 _"He is a witch see! He is using his magic to save himself! Quick burn him!"_

 _Another step brought the man to the edge of the pile. "Please... please...have mercy, I have never died before."_

 _The man smashed the lantern on the wood "you are in luck witch, for men only die once" remarked the man. He turned his back on the child and began to walk away._

 _"No...please..." the boy had an anguished look on his face. He opened his mouth. "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth that it is in heaven..."_

 _The tall man turned, his eyes wide with shock and horror just as the flames reached the child's rags. They lit easily, flames licking the oil that had been poured on. The cruel orange light glanced off the tarnished steel of the tall man's silver cross._

 _"Give us this day our daily bread and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen" whispered the boy. His voice carried on the wind, and he barely registered his own voice open in a scream and the many voices of the crowd crying and screaming with him. The tall man stood, eyes wide, his frame, tall and strong yet still somehow broken in the face of the knives of accusing wind that whipped around the boy as if to protect him from anyone. He fell to his knees, all was lost._

"Alfred! Alfred! Wake up!" shouted Matthew. _"Wake up! You are scaring the other kids! Wake up"_ he screamed in his and Alfred's native tongue. Alfred's face was covered in tears, he had been screaming in his sleep when Matthew was woken up by Ron, one of the boys he and his twin shared a room with.

"The fire! It hurts! Our father who art... have mercy, Big Brother!"

"Wake up, Maska! Wake up! the fire is gone, he is here, you are safe, together with me. We are safe." Matthew shouted at Alfred, trying to wake him up, the boys in the room were terrified, and Alfred was not waking up.

Matthew sharply turned to Ron, "I need you to fetch Professor Kirkland!" The boy just stared at him in dumbfounding shock, "Now!" Matthew screamed. With his eyes wide, the ginger ran off to fetch England. Matthew was terrified, Alfred had experienced nightmares before, but never to this extent. Plus, they had nearly always been about his civil war. This... this was something different. Something must have triggered a reaction of this extent. But what on earth...the dementors...they had shown Matthew his own greatest fear - his lack of control over his own power and his callousness towards life. What did they show Alfred? He had assumed that it had been the American civil war, but now, he was not so sure.

Alfred screamed again, calling for Arthur and begging for mercy. Matthew tried to no avail to wake his brother. Suddenly, the door blasted open. In ran both Arthur, and McGonagall.

"What is going on here?" demanded McGonagall sternly. Matthew looked helplessly at the crying and screaming Alfred.

"I can't get him to stop, this...this...this has never happened before, I can't help him." The last phrase was said in almost disbelief, in realization. For the first time in his entire life, Matthew could not help. "He's feeling something terrible, fire, burning, smoke, I don't know what it is but I can feel some of it through our bond. He's been calling for you Arthur, calling you big brother. I think he is dreaming of what the dementors showed him"

At this, Arthur looked up, he had been worried, consumed with worry over Alfred. But he didn't know how to respond to this emotion. He had spent much of his life trying to suppress his care for his former colony, he had tried not to feel, not to care, but now he was failing miserably. Something about seeing Alfred, his Alfred in pain just killed him, but he still didn't know what to do. He didn't know what the boy was dreaming about. When he had formed the empathy link on the train, he had been forced to only do a general overview of each of the twin's histories, or risk being completely overwhelmed. In fact, he had no clue what traumatic experience Alfred had seen. He had only seen the Revolutionary war and onwards, and had assumed that the civil war was his greatest fear. It certainly qualified.

But then suddenly, out of nowhere, the screaming stopped. On the bed Alfred was curled up in a fetal position, sobbing quietly to himself. A quiet broken voice of a little boy drifted out, "Big brother, big brother England, Arthur! Why are you never here? I need you! Help me, Please!

In a moment, Arthur swept up onto the edge of the bed. His face was hard and unreadable to strangers, but to someone who knew him well, it was easy to see the shattered and guilty look in his eyes. Slowly, painfully, the room became silent. Arthur sat on the bed, his head tipped back against one of the posts, he was fast asleep with his hand on Alfred's head. The boys in the room had long since fallen asleep on their chairs, they had given up on understanding the situation. Matthew was curled up beside Alfred as if trying to compensate with his warmth for not being able to help. McGonagall stood tall in the middle of the room, watching the little family with a smile to herself. If she harbored any suspicion at the strangeness, she kept it to herself. She left the room, full of questions, but also with a small bit of fondness towards the sarcastic professor she had at first disliked.


End file.
